


S02E??: Bewarehouse

by goodloser



Series: The Lost Episodes [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Comedy, Cute, Fluff, Gen, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:46:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22529563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodloser/pseuds/goodloser
Summary: FAN EPISODE; The Decepticons approach a nuclear plant to obtain more energon, but learn they've fallen into a trap set up by Cliffjumper and now have to wait out close quarters. Can they stand being near one another? Or will this small team devolve into fighting with one bot standing?Somehow still more coherent than the actual show.
Series: The Lost Episodes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620976
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. First Half

**Author's Note:**

> i love g1 (cartoon) so much so here's a fan episode! i tried to match the original zaniness but we all know that ain't happening, i had to inject Some sanity into it. yeah this is based on dangan ronpa don't @ me
> 
> set during S2, but before the stunticons show up. this is because i haven't met them yet i'm sorry
> 
> every time you see the horizontal rule you are FORCED to see the autobot/decepticon eyecatch and the little noise. i make the rules.

“What do humans call Optimus Prime?”

“I don’t know. What do they call me, Bumblebee?”

“Data!”

The cybercrickets were practically manifesting in the room.

Perceptor lifted a hand, and began to explain without even waiting for permission. “I believe ‘data’ is similar to ‘dada’, what human infants may call one of their parental units.”

Stood in the middle of the common room, Bumblebee nervously adjusted the red bowtie he was wearing. His knuckles gripped harder onto his makeshift mic stand. This comedy night was going terribly already. He coughed quietly, and tried to continue with, “Alright, alright. I had a new fan installed the other day. It’s awful. All he does is clap at everything I do!”

Ratchet laughed. Someone from the back of the room booed. 

Near the front of their little stage, Cliffjumper pulled his legs to his chest. “No offence to you, Bee, but your material sucks. Are the Decepticons really up to _nothing_ right now?”

Optimus said, “We’ve had no signs of activity.”

“Maybe they’ve finally all died and we won already.”

“The perfect time for some recon, I believe,” Mirage chuckled.

Behind Bumblebee, the screen above the console clicked into life. The pixels began to melt and shimmer. Teletraan I’s loud, smooth voice made him jump. “Incoming transmission from the president of the company TirCo, Ralph Munoz.”

The image of a white man, old and greying, appeared on the screen. He was smiling within a dark blue suit, his hands splayed in a sort of welcome. Optimus stood to the console and Bumblebee joined him, although the other Autobots chose to sit and watch with interest.

“Ah, Optimus Prime. The great leader of the Autobots. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And… a pleasure you. What is the purpose of this call?”

“I have a gift for you! For all of you. You see, my industrial complex near Tempe was recently closed. Usually with these things, we decommission it and auction the land off the highest bidder and make a tidy profit, but well, I had more of a diplomatic idea. Why not give this to my friends, the defenders of the Earth, the Autobots?”

For a friend, Bumblebee had sure never met this man before in his life. Optimus rubbed his mouthplate, and rumbled, “I see. Forgive me for asking, but what use could we have for… for your land?”

“Anything you see fit! Strip the technology, use the plant, bulldoze it and build a second base for all I mind. Just know it’s from me to you, completely free of charge. Don’t go letting those Decepticons bite, now, y’hear?” The man winked. “My people will talk to your people.”

The feed cut.

Bumblebee smiled. “Well, that was awful nice of him, right Optimus?”

Jazz finally stood up and wandered over. He was smiling as usual, but there was a sort of uneasy hardness to it. “I think Mr. Munoz over here is just lookin’ to nab some favours with us in case he ever wants to throw his weight around, sayin’ the Autobots are his pals and all.”

“What! No way, right!”

“I believe Jazz is right,” Optimus sighed. Raph Munoz wouldn’t’ve been the first human they’d come across trying to cash in on them some way or another. “But perhaps we’ll have a use for his land anyway. Perhaps to store weapons, or…”

Cliffjumper suddenly stood up. Now in the little sea of faces everyone was looking over his bright red finish. He waved both of his arms. “Wait a second, Prime! I just got a great idea!”

* * *

Starscream was near-pacing a hole in the Decepticon command room, the grandest scowl on his face. His arms were folded behind his back. His fingers twitched. Megatron was reading some kind of datapad, but occasionally his optics would look over and trace Starscream with a mixture of amusement and irritation. Soundwave was insoluble as ever at his station with the console. The room was empty otherwise.

Vworp.

Starscream jumped and fell on his aft.

In a flash of purple plasmagas, Skywarp was stood over him, hands on his knees and nearly buckling with laughter. “Oh, Star! You shoulda seen your face!”

Going from annoyed to _warlike_ , Starscream raised an arm-gun, but before he could shoot the doors to the room slid open and Thundercracker ran in with a hand held up. “Skywarp, d— 

Oh.”

Skywarp didn’t even turn. In between wiping tears from his optics, he giggled, “You _missed_ it, Thundercracker —”

“Thundercracker!” Starscream had scrambled to his feet and was now pointing his _second_ gun at the offending Thundercracker. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t blast the two of you to Cybertron right this instant!”

“... I did try to stop him,” Thundercracker said slowly. No defence for Skywarp, it seemed.

Megatron sighed and rose from his throne. His voice was low and thick with that contempt that permeated it whenever the trio got together. “I would prefer to have _all_ of my Seekers online and functional, _thank you_.”

Starscream whipped around. He looked on the verge of a tantrum. He sneered, “Lord Megatron! Do you _really_ think the fleet won’t be better off short two _scraplets?_ Two liabilities?”

“Sheesh, Starscream. All I did was jumpscare you,” Skywarp pouted. He was looking away, at the wall. The hand on his hip said he regretted nothing.

Megatron smirked. “And what, have Thundercracker lead Dirge, Thrust and Ramjet?”

“Thanks for the offer, Lord Megatron, but I’d really rather have Dirge do it,” Thundercracker quipped.

“Lord Megatron! I am your _Second In Command!”_ Starscream was noisy as always.

“No SIC of mine is untrained enough to be frightened by the likes of _Skywarp.”_

Suddenly, Soundwave’s voice droned from his side of the room and that immediately quietened the bots, even if only momentarily. “Discovery: Abandoned power plant. Stores of uranium available. Suggestion: Use to collect energon.”

Megatron turned to him slowly.

“Complication: Near Autobot base in the United States of America.”

“It’s a trap,” Starscream said immediately.

“Give us more details, Soundwave.”

“Intel: TirCo Nuclear Energy was closed two weeks. Awaiting decommissioning. Plant is mostly void of human life save for guards. Located eighteen units from human settlement Tempe, twelve leagues from Autobot Headquarters.”

“Starscream, explain to me how this is a trap.”

Starscream’s shoulders slagged slightly, but he still seemed adamant on his point and his foul face didn’t let up. “It’s been too long since we last caught wind of them, but I, I supposed I don’t have _evidence_ for it other than a Seeker’s gut circuits. But even if it’s _not_ , it’s too close to the Autobots. They’ll be on us like the Insecticons on those Earth plants.”

Megatron shifted his weight onto one knee. He thrust an arm out in anger. “Starscream, you fool! So you believe the Decepticons are so weak as to be felled by those weaklings, no matter how close we are to them?”

“I am just _saying_ Lord Megatron, the risk far outweighs the reward —”

“Nonsense. We can even use this time to launch a splinter campaign. You, Skywarp, Thundercracker, Soundwave: collect the energon. Bring Blitzwing for firepower. The rest of my army and I will attack the base when you have distracted them.”

“Lord Megatron!”

“One more beep out of you Starscream, and I can assure you you’ll get _none_ of the rations we procure from this.”

Fuming, Starscream turned on his heel. Thundercracker and Skywarp followed after him, as did Soundwave at a pause.

* * *

The newly-assembled group was sortieing. The air felt sour and cold on their plates as it drove past them in rivulets. While he’d been itching to get out and about for weeks now, too backed-up from waiting for the other shoe to drop on Autobot action, this was _not_ what Starscream had in mind and the flight did nothing to improve his mood. His field must’ve been dripping with loathing as if he’d just stepped out of the washracks.

“Come on, it ain’t a trap or nothin’, Starscream,” Blitzwing’s crude voice floated to him over the comm link and he wanted to throw something.

“I don’t care what it is or _isn’t_ anymore, Blitzwing, but if you try to start conversation with me I’m going to find Earth’s deepest ocean and drop you in it without your legs.”

Thundercracker’s voice was completely unaffected. It sounded like he was on the fence about the issue. “Don’t mind him, Blitzwing. He’s just jumpy.”

“Hah. You know why _that_ is.” To demonstrate, Skywarp teleported to only a mile ahead of the pack.

Idiot.

“Why don’t you just teleport straight into the plant, you metal parlour trick?” Starscream called. “Go on. I think the heart of the uranium will be warm enough for you.”

“I don’t know where it is yet,” Skywarp said, missing the point.

Soundwave flew in perfect silence. The team joined in, but only briefly, because Blitzwing was determined to put a stop to it. As if he was musing, but clearly not really since it was over comms, he muttered, “Wish I had a superpower.”

There was a note of exasperation to Thundercracker’s words. “You are literally a tank and a jet.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Yes, yes, we all have something fun about us, save the pathetic coneheads. Very fun. The next time you speak I promise I’m going to shoot you.”

“The coneheads have powers! They can ram into things and stuff!”

“Blitzwing. You are literally a tank. And a jet.”

Starscream’s jets whined as he increased the throttle to fly ahead of this ridiculous pack. His efforts were perfectly sullied by the rest of them surging up behind them, and when he comms them again they can hear the roll of his optics. “I swear on my right wingstrut, if I ever get stuck in a room with all of you again just finish me off right there. It’ll be a kindness.”

Blitzwing almost swore Thundercracker’s tail briefly dipped in amusement.

“Notice: Plant is one unit forward, on the Earth’s surface. Command: Begin descent.”

 _“I_ do the commanding around here, Third.” Starscream, using his F-15 afterburners, dipped into a nosedive too sharp for Blitzwing or Soundwave to follow. And a pointless one, if they weren’t actually _there_ yet. Thundercracker watched him go. Skywarp had probably landed already.

The team did find the power plant in short order; it was the only building around for miles, after all, and soon they were tramping into hard desert earth. The perimetre was cordoned. The steam stacks thrust a harsh shadow across them. They easily hopped the fence, barely knee-height, and began to head towards one of the main buildings; the most readily-available-for-conversion uranium would be in the form of rods used in the humans’ primitive reaction process. Yet every building was the same stark grey, the same basic construction and the same form. The nuclear material was kept under the material ‘concrete’ which meant its radioactivity was hidden from the Cons’ detectors.

 _Sigh._ What a worthless pain this mission was.

Thundercracker mused, “I’m surprised the guards haven’t approached us yet.”

Soundwave pushed that familiar button above his compartment. “Ravage: Eject. Mission: Patrol.” As soon as the black feliniform formed into his usual mode, Soundwave pointed in a seemingly-random direction and he sprinted off.

“Almost like it’s suspicious, right Starscream?” Skywarp guffawed in tune to Blitzwing, who he slapped.

Those two got along far too well for Starscream’s personal liking. He snapped, “At this point, I wish they would, and we could all go home.”

“Oh _nooo._ Is Starscream _obeying orders_ here?”

No one replied. Skywarp, your quips _suck._

“Command: Silence,” is what Soundwave snapped back (in his own synthesised way) as soon as Blitzwing had torn a hole through the shutter door into this specific building. The group fell quiet. They’d entered into a warehouse, and Starscream was only _dreading_ moving further knowing how much lower the ceiling was going to dip. Frag, if he was expected to move anywhere smaller in the search of this useless energon, he was going to prime a grenade.

Despite that, the room was surely large by human standards. Surprisingly, the middle of it was empty, but the sides were adorned with the primitive computers that marked Earth society. And in the middle of it all was a four-sided screen, so that every potential programmer could look behind them and see someone talking to them.

The screen twitched. A face appeared. Someone talked to them.

It wasn’t a face unfamiliar to them; it was a small face with low cheeks. It was adorned in red and it had dull eyes which still managed to smirk before them as it looked down and tracked them.

“Good morning,” Cliffjumper said.

Blitzwing primed his gun and was this close to shooting if Thundercracker hadn’t jumped in front, citing him to be an idiot.

On seeing this, Cliffjumper began to giggle. “Shoot me all you want! You’ll just be _cut off_ from the outside world!”

“What are you talking about? We’re _in_ the outside world,” Skywarp said, waving his arms to demonstrate all the not-open air.

“Are you really sure about that?”

“Yes.”

Cliffjumper looked at someone off-screen with a very blatant _is this guy for real?_ expression on his face. He mouthed something. When he turned back, he said, “Uhh, look behind you, Decepticreeps.”

All of them looked aside from Soundwave, who was unmoving. The hole in the shutter had been replaced by what looked like thick plates of rough metal. It was then that Starscream realised the odd pings on his radar he’d been taking for humans were actually well-masked energy signatures. There were Autobots outside, although only two. He rolled his optics again. “Very funny. There’s no uranium here, is there?”

“Urani-what?”

“Nuclear material, runt.”

Cliffjumper shrugged and looked off-screen again. A new voice spoke; somewhat toneless, it wasn’t one Starscream recognised. “There is uranium, but it is currently inaccessible to you.”

Cliffjumper frowned. “Don’t talk for me, Teletraan I.”

“Simply offering help.”

“It’s my show!”

The yellow bot they all knew well as Bumblebee nosed his way onto the screen. It would’ve been cute if he wasn’t a slagging Autobot. “Don’t be mean — whoa, it worked. Hi there!”

Blitzwing flipped the jet: universal hand gesture meaning ‘get scrapped’. Bumblebee laughed until Cliffjumper tried to push him out of the shot, grumbling something about his show again. Thundercracker traded a look with Starscream. Skywarp tried to catch Soundwave’s attention, but he was stony-faced as ever and still watching intensely. The two energy signatures were moving around the building in a way Starscream didn’t care for. The two minibots started having a one-sided argument and he was sure he was he was going home tonight with a processorache. Finally, Cliffjumper slapped something beneath the camera, likely a console.

“I don’t care!” he grumbled and turned back towards them. “Look. You’re all trapped in that warehouse. And you will be until you die. Haha!”

“We don’t want to kill them, Cliff.”

 _“Bee._ Stop making me look bad in front of the Decepticons!!”

“We, uh, don’t want to offline you guys or anything. Just sit tight. Think of it like prison?”

“Yeah, prison except with a twist — if you turn on the others we’ll let you out. Honorary Autobot.”

“I don’t think Prime really wants that?”

“Look — it doesn’t matter — ugh, transmission out.” The screen cut.

Blitzwing shot it.

It exploded in a flash of sparks and Skywarp slapped him. “What you do that for, scrapheap?”

“He was slagging me off.” He strolled over to the shutter, not a care in the world, and with a heavy clunk transformed into his tank alt.

Skywarp made a face. “Ugh, you’re covered in dirt and Earth junk.”

“You try rolling around — I hate this place, it’s so wet and squishy.”

Starscream stormed up to him and kicked one of his treads, earning a surprised noise of pain. “Do not shoot that thing in here. Is there a glitch in your system or what? It’s clearly selenium-laced tetratanium, your stupid shot will rebound and with any luck it’ll take out Skywarp, although I’d much rather it didn’t.”

Blitzwing whirred and shook his barrel in a way that Starscream took as a shrug. There was an aching grind as he turned towards the wall, also made of ‘concrete’, and fired off his gun. It blasted through the weak sand-based material with ease, but —

it turned on them in a flash.

The laser soared over Starscream’s head. He cursed and ducked. It hit a point at the upper level, pushing through concrete before again rebounding and now the Decepticons were dancing like they’d won the war as they tried to avoid getting seared as the laser lit up the room like a concert.

It finally stopped when it cut through another one of the screens in the centre of the room, and that seemed to take up enough power that it ran out of energy and was no more.

Blitzwing transformed back to his root. Starscream pushed him over and started kicking on him.

“You fragging — glitch — to Epsilon Tucanae with you — could’ve had me recharging with the C-beasts on Luna One —”

“Hey — Starscream, quit it, I got an idea!” Skywarp ran up and grabbed Starscream’s arm, tugging on his. 

And then something very odd happened. Black-and-purple electric gas, like vapourised obsidian, burst from Skywarp’s seams. There was a staticky, cut-off vworp. Starscream went still, as did he. They stared at each other with wide eyes.

From the ground, Blitzwing waved a servo in front of his face. “If you’re gonna exhaust, do it in the corner.”

It was Skywarp’s turn to round on him. “I was trying to teleport! You real piece of scrap! I’m gonna blow a hole in you. Thundercracker, get over here and help me out.”

“Uhh… I don’t have any reason to. You got anything for me Blitzwing?”

Blitzwing grabbed Skywarp’s foot. “I always thought your paintjob was dumb.”

“Doesn’t do it for me.”

Skywarp jerked his foot away and stepped on Blitzwing’s midsection. “Real funny coming from _you._ Beige. Pale human-looking —”

“Command: Stop fighting.”

Starscream sighed and slapped Skywarp’s shoulder in an effort to get him to stop. “Loathe as I am to admit it, Soundwave’s right. We’ve been here for five clicks and we’re already fighting.”

Blitzwing sprang up as soon as he could with a grin. “‘S the Decepticon way, right? Lord Megatron would be proud.”

“No he wouldn’t.”

* * *

Hoist and Grapple delivered each other a hearty, well-earned high-five. There were streaks of dirt and dust on Grapple’s face. Hoist was venting hard from the exertion of good honest work. They were sat outside the very warehouse the Decepticon team were currently despairingly trapped in, and boy did it taste sweet. They’d just finished putting up the slabs of heat-rejecting tetratanium, and according to the sounds of chaos inside their plans had been successful. Of course, tetratanium could _easily_ be reduced to dust by lowering its internal temperature to about 100 Base Temperature Units, or even counteracting it with any number of acids, but that was the prep the Decepticons just hadn’t thought to bring, and it had Hoist’s field beaming. 

“Who knew Cliffjumper had a head for decent schemes?” he said.

“I’m glad Optimus Prime cleared it,” Grapple agreed. “And I’m even _more_ glad he approved my designs for the wall.”

Okay, so maybe Hoist had to agree the geometric patterns the tetratanium had been arranged into were a _little_ flamboyant, a _little_ unnecessary, but they got the job done, and it made Grapple happy so whatever. “It looks good, Grapple.”

“Why thank you, Hoist. Do you think we should head back?”

“Yes. I can’t see the Decepticons going anywhere any time soon. But we should probably get a guard to take our place.”


	2. Ad Break

**The TRANSFORMERS will return after these messages.**

[ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jP_ze_vmlj8)

**We now return to an episode of The TRANSFORMERS.**


	3. Second Half

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this turned out really fluffy idk why

“So how comes I can’t just teleport out of here? This is nuts!”

Starscream waved an irritated servo. The group was, predictably and terribly, still in the warehouse. He, Blitzwing and Thundercracker had elected to sit on the floor, grumbling and cross-legged. Skywarp was waving his hands dramatically, almost in a brilliant approximation of Starscream. Soundwave hadn’t moved from his spot watching the monitor, other than dipping his head slightly in a way Starscream knew meant he was trying every comms channel he could access.

“Clearly, the Autobots have reinforced the tetratanium with some signal-blocker, possibly a thick calcium-suspended matrix if we have no access to comms. I get the feeling none of our powers will work while we’re in here.” And with that he raised an arm and shot Blitzwing with a null ray, who bowled over.

“And what was that for!?” Blitzwing jumped up and clenched both of his hands into fists; he looked ready to start pummelling.

“Merely demonstrating. You can still transform, can’t you?”

He cycled through his altmodes and came to a stop back in his root, anger now replaced with disgruntled concern. “... Weird.”

“I’m surprised they haven’t utilised a code-jamming emitter so we can’t transform, but those Auto-brats are hardly one for thinking ahead,” Starscream sneered.

“I’m already bored,” Skywarp moaned. Starscream wished he’d trained his gun on him instead. “Soundwave, do you have Rumble and Frenzy with you? They always know how to have some fun around here.”

“Negative: Rumble and Frenzy with Lord Megatron.”

“Slaggit!” Skywarp kicked at the ground, and Blitzwing looked put out, too. If Skywarp’s friendship with Blitzwing made sense considering the fact they were both blithering idiots, Blitzwing slotted in even  _ better _ with Soundwave’s bratty thugs he liked to carry around with him. Fools, the lot of them.

Blitzwing suddenly grinned. “Hey, hey, I have some great electro-chatter. So Laserbeak was sneakin’ around like he always does, until he comes up to me and Rumble and Frenzy — we was in the rec room, I think we were playing Old Drone — and he perches on the edge of the table all menacinglike. Frenzy says something like, whatcha doin’ here birdbrain? Laserbeak just shakes his head. And then he says it. He  _ saw _ it.”

For some reason, the others were actually listening. Thundercracker’s eyes were narrowed with a mixture of interest and amusement. “What?”

“Megatron keeps a framed still of Optimus Prime in his quarters!”

“Oh, Primus,” he rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, our brave and illustrious leader is as unreadable as ever,” Starscream snarked. His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Tell us something we  _ don’t _ know.”

“Train used to have this crazy crush on Skywarp.”

Skywarp squeaked from where he’d been antsily pacing. “Me?! Did I hear that right?”

“Skywarp this, Skywarp that.” Blitzwing stretched his arms up over his head. “He never told me but he’s a total pinhead so I knew anyway.”

Starscream felt more amusement from Thundercracker over their bond, but he didn’t know why. He was not the sort to pay attention to petty gossip unless it had some strategic, scheming merit. And whoever an oaf like Astrotrain was into these days was worthless intel.

“Ugh! Gross.” Skywarp wrung his hands momentarily. He didn’t look nearly as bothered as he was suggesting. “... Did he say anything about why?”

“I dunno.” Behind Blitzwing’s visor, he could see him knot his brow. “I think he said you were cute or something? Nice paint. Purple idiot. He liked Thundercracker too, but he said you were way out of his league, buddy.”

Thundercracker, who’d been sitting peacefully leaning his head on his servo, sat up. “What? Really?”

“How am  _ I _ beneath  _ Thundercracker?” _ Skywarp yelled with a stamp of the foot.

Blitzwing shrugged. “You know Thundercracker. He’s all hard to get and everything.”

Thundercracker laughed then, his wings creaking in tune to the shake of his chest. “I’m hard to get, am I? Well I’m glad my reputation precedes me.”

Starscream stood up now, pointing a finger at Blitzwing in accusation. “Now listen here, you hundred-tonne pile of Earth dung. What has Astrotrain said about  _ me?” _

“Too noisy.”

“WHAT.”

“We don’t call you Screamer for nothin’.”

“This is unbelievable,” he muttered as he trailed away. He grumbled to himself until he reached the opposite wall, and then he turned around and headed to Soundwave with a dark look on his face.

Thundercracker tilted his head. “I thought you an Astrotrain had a thing going?”

“Nah. He’s my best bud, but I’d still sell him out to the Autobolts for one energon chip.” Blitzwing leaned back and stared at the ceiling of the room they were in; tall, but not particularly comfortably.

“Ouch. I won’t tell him.”

“Oh, I tell him every day.”

Since the conversation was winding down now, Skywarp flopped onto the ground as well. His wings were twitching with pent-up energy. “This is getting boring again. Can we play a game?”

Blitzwing reached into his subspace and pulled out a handful of steel dice. “Let’s play C-LO.” 

“We have nothin’ to bet,” Thundercracker said, eyeing them over, and then, “Do you always bring gambling on missions with you?”

“Let’s bet energy rations or somethin’. Hey Starscream, come gamble with us!”

Starscream shot him a pout. He was going to turn away and whisper something to Soundwave, but to everyone’s surprise, the Communications Officer trudged ahead and sat down in the circle that was forming. He went with his legs tucked underneath him. It was almost cute. Starscream wouldn’t be left out of anything, nosiree, so he returned too although the look on his face said he wasn’t happy with it.

“What’s C-LO? You’ll find I have better things to do all day than gamble like a grunt.”

“Rules: Place bets and roll dice. Win: 4-5-6 or highest point. Lose: 1-2-3. Point: Doubles and a single. Triple: Overrides point.”

“Charming. Well, we can all start off with one ration, right?”

Blitzwing nodded, but before he could do anything Starscream reached over and rolled them unceremoniously into the centre of their circle. The dice tumbled and clattered before coming to a still.

A six, a four, and a… two. Starscream cursed under his breath.

“Starscream: Reroll.”

Five two five. So a set point of two. This was terrible.

Against all odds, Thundercracker rolled the exact same combination. Blitzwing got a set point of six, blast that idiot. Skywarp’s was a meaningless point of one. And Soundwave got all ones. He won.

“This is pointless. And boring.”

“Don’t get mad just ‘cause you didn’t win,” Skywarp giggled. “Let’s raise the stakes. Whoever wins, the loser has to do his cleaning duties for a week.”

They went around the circle again, Starscream rolling useless combinations until he settled on a point of three. Thundercracker; four. Blitzwing, six again,  _ slag it. _ Skywarp got five, and Soundwave got three. Blitzwing whooped and slapped his knee. “Soundwave and Screamer, you know what you’re doin’ tonight!”

“I have no idea why I’m doing this,” Starscream moaned. “Why don’t we do something  _ I _ find fun.”

“Like what?”

Starscream sat up. He fluttered his wings in a display of pomp and put a servo to his cockpit. “Well, I like to read scientific journals, scheme, study, plot, polish myself, and draw up more plans to destroy Megatron.”

Soundwave shot him a look. Blitzwing seemed… undeterred. He grabbed the dice in one hand and shook it with a kind of excitement. “Well, we can help do all that! Right, guys?”

“No you can’t. You two are idiots.”

“So here’s the plan. It all starts in the mess hall.”

“I hate you.”

* * *

“How is it going, Cliffjumper?” Optimus Prime’s voice rumbled low.

Cliffjumper was seated in the common room aboard the arc. He was drinking canned energon with a straw stuck through the top, and scribbling doodles on a steelpad. He looked anything but the picture of a master machinator. He glanced up at Optimus, straw still between his lips. “Oh, hey Prime.”

“Yes, hello. I’d like an update on the project.”

“What, Project Despair?”

“... That is a very frightening name.”

Cliffjumper put his can down and jumped up, beaming. “Those Decepticreeps fell for it hook, line, and sinker! They’re all cooped up in that powerplant. If we’re lucky, they’re at each other’s fuel lines by now.”

Optimus’ eyes flicked with minute dissatisfaction. “I would rather they didn’t. Perhaps we should check up on them to make sure they’re alright.”

Cliffjumper rolled his optics. “You and Bee are such big softies.” He made his way to the console anyway, and reset his vocaliser. Optimus joined up; a wall behind him.

“Connecting you to TirCo Power Plant Tempe, Warehouse feed 8A,” cooed Teletraan I. There was the short fuzz of electricity as the screen cut to the warehouse, dark inside.

There weren’t any real shapes visible, just a strange lump of metal to the side of the room. Bodies, Cliffjumper hoped. His hopes were quickly dashed when the hunk stirred and soon red optics were looking up at him. The Decepticons were all lying in a heap! Somewhere near the bottom was Thundercracker’s blue paint almost melting into the darkness of the room. Starscream had been beside him and resting his head on a shoulder pauldron, although he looked up and scowled when the feed came on. Blitzwing was splayed across Thundercracker’s chest, and he didn’t move. Maybe he was recharging. Or dead, Cliffjumper  _ hoped. _ Beside him was Soundwave, cross-legged but still leaning into the group. And curled up on Starscream’s legs like a feliniform was Skywarp, who looked oddly smug.

“What in the Pit are you doing?!” Cliffjumper yelled. “You’re meant to be shooting each other’s faceplates off!”

Blitzwing (still not moving) mumbled, “We’re nesting.”

“Why — who on Cybertron does that?!”

Starscream scoffed. “You grounders wouldn’t get it.” That didn’t explain what Soundwave was doing there, though.

Blitzwing continued, “We started playing C-LO, but Starscream got bored, so we tried doing his thing, but he hated my grand plan of pushing Megatron into a trench with a crate full of explosives, so now we’re trying Thundercracker’s thing.”

“I like watching Earth shows and photography,” Thundercracker clarified slowly, “But we can’t do any of that in here. So I suggested a nest.”

Optimus’ optics were soft as he leaned down into the screen. “I am glad to see you are making yourselves at home.”

“When are we getting out?” Skywarp whined.

Optimus looked down at Cliffjumper, who was pouting. “We have to let them out of there some time, Cliffjumper. We do not want our prisoners to starve. They’ll need rations soon enough.”

Cliffjumper waved his arms. “You’re joking! Megatron’s best troops, and you want to load ‘em up with our fuel supplies? Why don’t we just offline them here and now?”

“Freedom  _ is _ the right of all sentient beings.”

He scowled and slammed a fist on the console again before pointing up into the camera. “If you five like each other so much why don’t you just  _ marry _ him?” And the screen switched off.

“Idiot,” Blitzwing grumbled.

Starscream twitched his nose. “Skywarp, your wings are in my faceplate.”

“Just move your head,” Skywarp grumbled back.

Thundercracker rumbled his engines in an effort to calm the lot. The deep, noisy reverberations vibrated through the group. It seemed to work. Skywarp sagged harder, if that was even possible, and even Starscream had put his head back down to Thundercracker’s shoulder.

Maybe getting trapped in here wasn’t such a bad idea after all!

* * *

There was still one way Cliffjumper could remedy this situation, he hoped. He was strolling through the base, hoping to find one of his favourite loudmouths; the twins or maybe even Powerglide or Warpath. His efforts were fruitless and so he circled back to the medic bay, hopping up onto an examination table.

“What’re you in for, Cliffjumper?” Ratchet cheered. He’d been holding a laser-scalpel and was turned over the bench in the far side of the room.

“You’ll never believe what I just saw come out of Project Despair.”

He wandered over, eyes twinkling. “What was it?”

“The Decepticons all huddled together like an old married couple! Or like Earth worms.” Cliffjumper made a face. “Stupid Cons can’t even do one thing right. I lock ‘em in a room to get them to hate each other and all they do is fall head over heels. Primedamnit.”

Ratchet laughed at that. He wasn’t sure what to do with this information, but it was unexpected nonetheless. “The Aerialbots do the same thing, y’know. As does Powerglide. I believe it’s a flier protocol.”

Cliffjumper folded his arms. “And how come I’ve never been invited to one of these protocols?”

“Cliffjumper, are you jealous?”

“NO,” he bit back far too quickly. “I don’t need to be hugged by those stupid jets _or_ _our_ stupid jets.”

“I can always arrange for a group nest… You know how Prime is.”

He pushed himself off the table. “I ain’t wanna be a part of some no-good lovey-dovey junk like that!” He stormed off. Hopefully Mirage was around somewhere and up for some hassling.

* * *

Nesting with Soundwave was odd, Thundercracker thought. The officer was quiet as ever, his forehead pressed to Thundercracker’s landing gear and one hand rubbing circle’s into Blitzwing’s arm.

To be honest, he was learning more about Soundwave than he ever thought he’d be comfortable with. And Blitzwing, for the matter, whose gun barrel was touching up past Thundercracker’s head. It stank of saltpeter and raw energy… but it wasn’t too much of a bad smell. He could’ve lay like this forever, he thought, but Starscream’s voice suddenly rang out, “Alright, move you nitwits. My ankle struts are going numb. Skywarp, I’m talking to you.”

Skywarp mewled a yawn and stretched. He sat back up on his own legs and poked Starscream in the arm. “Aw, no need to be so bashful, Star. We know you love me really.”

Blitzwing pushed off Thundercracker with surprising gentleness and also stretched. He lifted his arms high above his head again and almost bent over backwards trying to work out the kinks in his system. “That was fun.”

“Yes, we should do it more often,” Starscream drawled. “I suppose you want us to do ‘your thing’ now, Skywarp?”

“Aw, can we? Let’s play tag,” Skywarp nodded.

“Must you  _ be _ such a sparkling?”

“It’ll be fun. Come on.” He slapped Starscream right in the faceplate and scrambled away, transforming into a jet within moments. “You’re it!”

Thundercracker chuckled as Starscream growled in turn. He transformed too, and was off. With a shuffle, Soundwave had silently joined the others near the ceiling. Ridiculous. Starscream punched the too-slow Blitzwing with far more force than needed — “Tag.” — and flew off.

The speedier, high-maneuver seekers were tough targets; Blitzwing’s tank mode put considerable weight into his MiG 25 form. He could hit Mach 2 but it came with a dangerous rattling, not to mention the feeling of wind screeching past his sensitive track gears was an irritation to match no else. So he opted for Soundwave, who was in no way a jet or a rotary or anything worth shaking a wing at. Blitzwing was slow, but he wasn’t  _ Soundwave _ slow, and he pinned him into the corner with ease and bumped him with his nosecone. “Tag!”

Soundwave seemed to sigh. He fruitlessly gave chase to Blitzwing, and then gave in to Skywarp’s teasing darts around the room and attempted a few grabs for him. Then he hung his head and came to land down next to the central screens. He put a finger to one of his audials. “Lord Megatron: Affirmative. Question: Estimated time of arrival. Understood. Soundwave: Standby.”

Starscream would’ve rolled his optics if they were connected right now. He made a sharp turn to avoid crashing into the ceiling. What kind of idiot would fall for —

Clunk. “Soundwave! When’s Lord Megatron getting —”

Soundwave wordlessly pushed his palm onto Skywarp’s cockpit with a tap. “Skywarp: It.”

Skywarp stared at him.

Soundwave lifted off with renewed energy. Skywarp was about to jet after him, but he realised now Thundercracker was the only one who’d not been it. The jet in question was in root mood and perched near the ceiling, his optics a red pierce in the dark. Sheesh, sometimes he could give Shockwave a run for his money in creepiness.

But Skywarp wasn’t deterred. He zoomed straight for him. Thundercracker ducked — willingly pushing himself off the rafter so he could transform mid-air and fly to the other side of the room. Skywarp was going too fast to brake, now, and he tried a harsh maneuver but he didn’t quite make it. The side of his wing grated terribly against the metal siding of the wall. He yelped.

“Thundercracker! I swear to the high Afterspark I’m gonna get you!!”

Thundercracker was sat on the console now and examining a very tiny human-sized laserscribe. (A pen, it was called?)

Skywarp spun around. “Blitzwing! If you help me out, I’ll — I’ll go on a date with Astrotrain!”

Blitzwing paused mid-badgering Starscream to do another one of his insane flight quirks. “Why would I want that.”

“What! You’re best buddies, aren’t you?”

“Slag! Train’s so annoying when he has someone he likes. He goes all gooey. It’s weird as Pit. I’d rather he was getting burnt, ‘cause sometime he takes it out on me and it’s pretty funny.”

“… You like Astrotrain wailing on you?”

“It’s funny. Thinks he can beat me in a fight… pheh. Only ‘cause he’s so big. Big broken axle has no tact.”

Of all people to be talking about the lack of anyone’s tact, Blitzwing was  _ not _ one of them. But Skywarp was incensed. “Okay, help me out and I’ll tell him I’ve fallen in love with you or somethin’ and that’ll get him slagged off for a few couple cycles.”

“Deal.” Blitzwing swooped at Thundercracker in an arc from the side, which alarmed him enough that he stood up and transformed. Luckily, Thundercracker was no poor flier. His occasional boasting of his dominance over the sky was no joke — he tilted and slid easily through Blitzwing and Skywarp’s encroaching trap. He swooped behind Starscream and changed back to root, clutching him from behind.

“Let go of me!” Starscream growled and shook his arms in an effort to get Thundercracker to let go. “It’s just a game, you fool.”

Thundercracker ignored him and pushed the barrel of one of his arm-guns to the side of Starscream’s head. He bellowed, “If you tag me, I’m gonna blow Star’s processor out.”

What an empty threat. Skywarp and Blitzwing both turned to each other, two jets sharing an unspoken look. They crossed paths to get in close, simultaneously cheering “Who cares!”

Thundercracker grunted and kicked Starscream away, priming his gun for real, but he wasn’t fast enough. Skywarp and Blitzwing both collided with him and he was clashed under flightmetal with a groan. Someone’s wings was cutting into his wings and someone’s legs was jutting into his chest, somehow.

Starscream was in root and standing near Soundwave again. He shook his head. “Simpletons.”

Skywarp giggled, “I win.”

Starscream folded his arms. “Very funny. Very cool. Now get down here, you dimwits.”

The trio complied and were back in robot mode sooner than Starscream could shake a tail fin at. He realised they were standing… haphazardly. Blushing and giggling. This mission was truly nothing more than an utter pain. “Are you quite finished flirting with each other like a load of academy graduates?”

Skywarp wiped his brow. “What are you talkin’ about?”

_ “Please, _ Skywarp, afford yourself some dignity and stop falling for every cheap mech who presents himself. Now, let’s wait —”

“Hold on,” Blitzwing said, and held a hand out. “We didn’t do Soundwave’s thing.”

“Soundwave’s thing? You think Soundwave has  _ things?” _ Starscream asked both incredulously and as if the officer wasn’t right with them.

Blitzwing and Thundercracker merely both shot Soundwave a pointed look. He was standing stiffly (though not more so than usual) and vaguely staring into the group with his optics focused on no one in particular. He made to shrug, but stopped himself. He had a really odd determination to keep his servos to his sides. “Soundwave: Has hobbies, correct.”

“Well, what?” Skywarp tensed. He was raising his hands in excitement. “Come on, you’ve put up with our scrap, let us put up with yours!”

“Soundwave: Enjoys… duties. Reading. Caring.”

“Caring?” Blitzwing shot back. “What, for your cassettes?”

Surprisingly, Soundwave shuffled. “A… Answer: Anyone.”

“You’re so weird, officer,” Blitzwing replied with a roll of his optics. However, he was ready to comply considering how happy Soundwave was to jump into his little gambling game. “Whatcha want me to do?”

“... Sit.”

He did so, as did Skywarp and Thundercracker, though after some hesitation. Soundwave moved over and retrieved a cloth from his subspace, only to begin wiping in between Blitzwing’s shoulder seams with an unexpected level of affection behind it. He made slow work; it was obvious it was as much a ritual for him as it was for the person being cared for. His cloth moved around cabling, and Blitzwing arched himself to present more. Of course, it wasn’t a bad feeling — unfamiliar, but Soundwave was able to get the grime out from his armpits, so why not revel in it?

Starscream was watching them, arms still folded, a focused look of disappointment on this face. “Very cute. A carrier and his idiot child.” His voice was cold.

Soundwave made no attempt to reply. He seemed even quieter, in fact — entirely within the moment. He was silent when he instructed Blitzwing to lift his legs or to rotate his gun to reach those small, hidden spots of grease. He even wiped around the inside of Blitzwing’s gun barrel; useless when it was just going to get dirty with powder again, but Soundwave seemed to like it. He moved onto Skywarp and Thundercracker when he was done, and they received the same level of care until Starscream was both tapping his foot and feeling a level of itchiness under his plating. “Are you quite finished already?”

“Starscream: … Sit.”

“You don’t expect me to really play along with your little games, do you?”

Skywarp waved an arm. “It’s better than the washracks, Star! Wow, I feel like I was made yesterday.”

Starscream cursed. “Exactly how Soundwave wants you to feel, I presume.”

Soundwave paid no attention to the slight and lifted his cloth, relentless. By then it was covered in muck stains and Starscream threw his nose up. Soundwave noticed, of course he did, and stowed it away only to retrieve a second cloth sparkling-clean. He moved to wipe Starscream’s face, and oddly enough, the fearless air commander didn’t try to stop him. The cloth was mostly white from Starscream’s joints, because unlike his fellow idiot trine, he tried to keep himself presentable, but there was still some dust Soundwave managed to remove and Starscream loathed to admit he was a little grateful for it.

“Routine: Soundwave gives energon. Obstruction: No energon.”

“That’s alright, Soundwave,” Thundercracker answered. “You’ve already done a lot for us.”

“Soundwave: Disappointed. But not displeased.”

***

Clearly, Cliffjumper could not go five clicks in this place without someone bothering him. This time it was Bee again, who jumped on his back and waved his arms. His voice was a song; “Alright, Cliff?”

“Yeah I’m alright, damnit, could you get off me?”

“Sorry! So how’s the prisoners?”

Cliffjumper waved his arms and made a noncommittal noise. “Last I saw, they were all but smoochin’ each other and ready to do the conjunx rites.”

Bumblebee almost sat down in shock. “Really? That sounds nothing like the Decepticons I know.”

“Yeah, these ones must be faulty or something. Really thought there’d be junk metal on the floor right now. Primus alive.”

“Well — we really don’t want that, right? All casualties are bad casualties and all.”

Cliffjumper didn’t answer.

They were in the corridors. Bumblebee had been holding a collection of blueprints, but he’d stashed them away into his subspace once he’d jumped on Cliffjumper. And Cliffjumper had simply been milling about; waiting for confirmation of his captive’s deaths or something. It was a pain, truly. He was beginning to see why it was usually Optimus or Wheeljack who made the plans around here. He wasn’t especially cut out for this leader stuff. Unless it involved leading troops into a battle, of course.

“Come on, it’s going great,” Bumblebee voiced, ever the mindreader. “The fact you got them in there at all is pretty great.”

“Oh — I know, right? Those stupid Cons fell for it like nothin’ else! Aw, but Optimus says we have to let ‘em out soon.”

“Huh? Why?”

“So they can eat. Otherwise we’d be ‘starving prisoners’.” Cliffjumper was careful to mimic the human ‘air quotes’ gesture then. 

“Oh yeah. I mean, if I was captured by the Decepticons, I’d sure hope they’d give me enough to eat.”

“But they wouldn’t, Bee! Yet Prime says we’d be stoopin’ to their level, when we’d just be giving ‘em what they deserve and all!”

“I don’t know.” Bumblebee seemed testy. “It still doesn’t sit right with me, to just run them until their tanks are dry. Hey, can we talk to them?”

“Sure, I guess. If you wanna be such a poppet.”

He was offended. “Cliffjumper! You’re so… mean sometimes.”

“Look Bee. I’m just ready to do what I can to end this war.” They were at the console now. Teletraan I switched them onto the feed without even a warning, and there was the inside of the warehouse again. Rather than a huddle, the Cons seemed to be sat quietly in a circle. The tankjet was aimlessly rolling dice and didn’t try to glance up. Starscream was clearly having a comms-only conversation with his trine, who were animatedly waving and gesturing despite the lack of noise. Soundwave was still. He was the only one who looked up when the screen buzzed on. “Hi Decepti-dolts. Are you holding on in there okay?”

“Soundwave: Tired.”

“Of course you are. You’re a prisoner!”

Bumblebee palmed his chin. “Are you guys hungry?”

“Answer: Negative.”

“Look, Bee. The Cons are obviously fine. Let’s leave ‘em and go on patrol or something.”

He frowned, ever the little nice guy. “Maybe we should go visit them?”

“What for!”

“They seem really bored.”

“That’s their  _ punishment _ for being scrapheaps.”

“I’m going to visit them. Where’s Hoist and Grapple?”

* * *

“Hello there!” Bumblebee exclaimed as he waltzed into the newly-formed doorway in the warehouse facility. A bad idea, surely, but the Decepticons didn’t even seem to care. They were still sitting haplessly off-kilter to the central screens. The seekers had finished their argument and were now leaning on each other; a content trine. Soundwave was throwing dice with Blitzwing.

Starscream crooned, “Hello you yellow runt. Are you letting us out of here?”

“Uh… No. I just thought I’d pop by and make sure you guys were doing alright.”

“How caring.”

Blitzwing waved an arm up. “Hey! Uh — Autobot I don’t know! Come join us for a game of Twenty One.”

Surprisingly, Bumblebee actually elected to sit down in between Blitzwing and Soundwave. “Sure. Oh, are you using dice?”

“Yeah, so it’s Twelve really, but hey. Beats doin’ nothing.”

“Alright. Deal then.”

“Wait — what are you betting?”

“I can bet you some petrol.” He pulled a jerry can from his subspace and Blitzwing grimaced.

“That tastes like real muck. But fine, we can bet energon. Let’s roll.” He got a ten. Soundwave got a wordless eight, and decided to reroll. Fourteen. He had to bow out. And Bumblebee — eleven. Primus, he won the pot and laughed about it, too.

“I don’t know how you guys are delivering out that energon, but that was fun! Let’s go again.”

“Do you wanna bet us getting out of here?”

“Um. No.”

Blitzwing cursed. “What else are you holding?”

“I can give you… some schematics for my alt. Then you’ll have an edge on the enemy, right?” Bee could almost hear Cliffjumper cursing in his head.

“Alright. Sure. We can give you ours. I’ll only give you my tank, though, ain’t fair if you get two.” 

The game was on. Blitzwing rolled an eleven straight out the pot. It’d be hard to beat, that was for sure. Soundwave got another fourteen — the officer was out of the league. And Bumblebee… ten. He decided to roll again. Because, he had nothing to lose, did he? It was a nine. One more reroll. Thirteen. He was dust. Blitzwing laughed nastily and held his servo out. Bumblebee quietly retrieved a set of blueprints and placed them in his hands. It wasn’t a horrible loss by any means, apart from the deep embarrassment Bumblebee was now feeling. At least he had no special abilities. Though it was a pain that the Cons now knew that.

“Starscream,” he called, “What are you up to?”

Starscream was cradled in between Thundercracker and Skywarp, who were holding him up with all the pleasantries in the world. He frowned. That was all he seemed to do, really. “Waiting.”

“I hope Cliffjumper hasn’t been too hard on you guys or anything.”

“He’s been the  _ perfect _ host.”

Skywarp swatted him. “You’re such a bore, Starscream.”

“Are you insane, Skywarp? Need I remind you where we are right now?”

“It ain’t that bad.”

Starscream tried to push him over. “You’re a pain.”

Bumblebee scratched a small dent on his face. “Are you three really friends? You kinda seem to hate each other.”

“Believe me, I loathe Skywarp. Afterspark knows how I ever got dragged into a trine with him.”

Skywarp swatted him again. “TC’s fault.”

“Have you  _ seen _ Skywarp?” Thundercracker piped up. “He’d have gotten himself scrapped in moments if it wasn’t for me. Not that you make any attempt to make it better, Starscream.”

“Skywarp can perish in all the fires he starts for all I care.”

“Yeah… I still feel like you hate each other,” Bumblebee mumbled. “Well, I’ll get going now. Optimus Prime will probably let you guys out soon.”

* * *

Ka-blam.

The wall crashed open in a blast of dust and rubble. Blitzwing jumped up, as did Soundwave, but the seekers remained seated with each other. Megatron was in the faux-doorway, now glaring at them. His voice was low and sinister. “You five are pathetic. What are you doing down there?”

Skywarp stuck his tongue out. Megatron fired his blaster and Skywarp teleported out; back to the Nemesis if he had any brains. Starscream and Thundercracker had to dive out of the way.

“Lord Megatron —” Starscream started, “What took you so long? Concocting another good-for-nothing plan, I suppose?”

“I thought I’d let you simmer in your turmoil, Starscream. Blitzwing! Are those dice?” Megatron knelt down and swiped the dice off the ground. “Confiscated. If you don’t have anything else you’d like to give me, you’re on warehouse duty for a week.”

Blitzwing grumbled something and relinquished a bottle of high-grade from his subspace and into Megatron’s open palm.

“Primus, you are all a joke. Soundwave, why didn’t you stop him? Obviously, I couldn’t have expected Starscream to do anything about it.”

“Answer: Soundwave couldn’t report to Lord Megatron.”

“Very well. Let’s all get out of here. There’s no energon to be made in this worthless dump.”

For once, Starscream was happy to comply.

* * *

Skywarp got down on one knee in the mess hall. The optics of almost the entire Decepticon army were on him — clearly, something was about to go down. He was in front of the tabe where Blitzwing was sitting with Astrotrain and his arms were spread wide. His voice was ersatzly silky; he wasn’t as good a liar as Starscream, clearly. “Blitzwing. I’ve fallen madly in love with you.”

Blitzwing laughed and looked at Astrotrain. “Hey Train, I win.”

Astrotrain stood up and smacked Blitzwing’s energon cube to the floor. It splashed over Skywarp, who sat there like a pink idiot. 


End file.
